The Darkest Romance
by French Punk
Summary: In the Darkest Estate, a Hellion and a Vestal learn that even in the darkest of places, there is light. WARNING: Lemon (explicit sexual content) will happen later on. Yuri (woman x woman) will too. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
1. The Darkest Romance

Maria Selwyn woke up suddenly, her eyes shooting up as she brutally left the merciful blackness that was a dreamless sleep.  
She reached for the box of matches next to her, and, her hands shaking, lit a match. The tiny, insignificant light born at the tip of the match reassured her. A small, timid smile crept on her face as she remembered the brightest moments of her life; her time within the ranks of the order of the Benevolent Heart, the pride she felt when she saw peace and order being brought back to a once troubled estate by the Sisters of Silence.  
She was taken out of her fond memories as the flame from the match reached her fingertips. She cursed as she dropped the match and crushed it under her large boot. Picking up another match, she lit it, before proceeding to light the uncountable candles present in her room, changing the matches when they were consumed entirely.

Once she was done, the Vestal turned to the person sleeping in her bed. The dim light provided by the candles shimmered on the woman's short, red hairs. Approaching the sleeping Hellion, Maria turned her head lightly to see her face. Courcy whimpered in her sleep, hugging a pillow for comfort.

 **A day ago...**

" _There she is! Purge the unclean!_ "

Courcy felt an invisible hand grasp her heart as the ridiculous hope of escaping she held in herself fade in an instant as she reached a Y-shaped intersection; from behind her, the supplications of the infuriated mob of townfolks let her imagine the fate she would suffer if they managed to get their hands on her; one of the paths offered to her, who seemed to get to less inhabited places of the Hamlet, was blocked by a Crusader, the one who shouted, pointing a gauntled finger at her, holding his sword in the other hand. She turned to the dark alley, her last option, only to see a Bounty Hunter emerge from there.  
Truly, she was dead already. A grim knowledge that hit her like a violent wave; she would die here. But she was determined not to go out without a fight. The Hellion tightened her grip on her glaive and clenched her teeth, as her end approached, unavoidable.

Or so she thought.

A flash of light blinded her along with the Crusader, the Bounty Hunter, and the upcoming crowd. Screams of hatred and bloodthirst changed into confusion, panick, and fear. Nobody could see were they were going, pushing each other around without knowing where they stood. The Crusader shouted at the "dirty peasants" to get away from his "holy person" and let him continue his "sacred duty". His threats and curses fell on deaf ears, as the horde of townfolks was scared, foncused, deorganized. The constant flow of this tide of flesh unknowingly carried the Crusader away from his prey, and anniliathed the Bounty Hunter's opportunity to strike Courcy, as he was the less affected by the sudden flash of light; he was stepped on by the tide of confused flesh, crushed by the pressure of a hundred feet.

The Hellion then felt someone grab her. Her first reaction was to thrash around wildly, swinging her blade. The person holding her did not let her go; pulling her in an unknown direction, apparently away from the terror of the crowd. The person that held her, even if she had to maintain a firm grip on her to prevent the storming tide of the Hamlet's inhabitants to pull them apart, was aparently trying to be as gentle as possible. Courcy could barely walk; she was exhausted.  
She did not realize she fell unconscious until she woke up in a warm bed. Her eyes suddenly shot open, and her first reaction was to panick. Where was she? What happenned? The redhead tried to move into a sitting position, but as she was about to do so, an agonizing pain engulfed her leg, making her cry out in pain. It felt like her flesh had been punctured violently.

When the pain finally settled down a few minutes later, the adventurer took a peek at her injured limb, still panting from the terrible feeling of agony. Her leg was bandaged and locked in a splint. It wasn't hard to understand what happenned; the Bounty Hunter probably hit her with his hook before the crowd overwhelmed them, but in the adrenaline of the moment, she did not felt it. Looking around the room, she noticed the place did not have any window, and was filled with candles, along with a couple paintings, and some medical supplies.  
It took her a moment to realise that the room was inhabited; what she thought was a statue of some sort of saint was in fact a young woman, dressed like a Vestal, apparently scared by her outburst of pain. Her features, barely visible due to the hood she wore and the dim light the room was basking in, seemed soft, even through her face showed a few minor cuts.  
After a moment of awkward silence, the servant of the Light spoke up.

"How are you feeling, Courcy?"

For her, answering that question was tricky. Her mind and body were still numb, and the Vestal might use that to question her without as much resistance as if she was in a more healthy condition. Ever-alert Courcy frowned, but answered none the less.

"I'm feeling like total shit. Who the hell are you, and why am I here? What happenned?"

The other woman threw her hood back, revealing herself completely; she had glimmering blue eyes, long, blonde hair, and an angelic face, even if she had been mark by the violence of this place; a vertical scar ran up from her forehead to the beginning of her cheek, and a few cuts were visible here and there.

"It's me, Courcy. Maria. I used to be a sister hospitaller when we first met, if that's what confuses you. But I embrace the path of the Vestal."

The Helion felt sorrow crushing her as she remembered. Yes, she knew the shy and gentle girl... she met her right before going in the dungeon where Baignard died.  
The thought of her lost love made her want to cry and wrap herself in foetal position. But as she started to move, she felt a hand placed on her shoulder. Looking up at Maria, she read... compassion, and sympathy. She understood. As much as she wanted to shove her away, and tell her to leave, she appreciated the help this Vestal was giving her. It also hit her, how the look in her eyes changed; she could stil read gentleness, feel like that girl was caring, but she also felt like the horrors of the Darkest Estate finally claimed her innocence.

"Why did you save me?" repeaded Courcy as she laid back against the pillow.

The Vestal blushed slightly at the comment, and, to the Hellion's surprise, smiled lightly. "Because I can help you, Courcy..."


	2. The Expedition

"Maria, I'm going into the Ruins."

This simple, short sentence, pronounced by the Hellion as she entered the Vestal's room, froze her right where she stood. A mounth had passed since she saved the redhead from being hanged. The more she recovered, the more she wanted to slay, to kill _something._  
That craving for blood was scaring the blonde. Seeing Courcy like this, hell-bent on passing her rage and her sorrow on unholy, eltdritch or pelagics foes was paining her. She feeared she was running straight to our doom. Taking a deep breath, Maria assembled her courage to timidly ask Courcy a question that burned her lips as soon as she asked it.

"Can I come along, Courcy?"

The Hellion turned her gaze to her, interrupting her action of packing up the items that might be useful to her in the expedition. Maria felt uncomfortable, just like if the redhead was judging her, anaylzing her.  
But she broke the eye contact and went back to packing antivenom and bandages.

"Yeah, I don't mind. But if something happens, it won't be my fault, alright?"

The Vestal nodded, knowing that contrarily to a warrior like Courcy, she wasn't really used to the expeditions in dungeons, and the few she participated in marked her like a knife carving in her mind, leaving scars, that would eventually lessen by the time, but teach her a lesson, and constantly remind her of the horrors of the estate.

"Who else is coming?"

The Hellion stood back up, having packed up everything she needed, and turned to Maria.

"Silas and Tilly. He's just a depressived, drunk Highwayman, but he gets the job done, from what I heard, and she's a skilled grave choice of persons to go with was kinda restricted; not a lot of adventurers tolerate me anymore."

The sentence, once again, hurt like a fistful of daggers. Maria wanted the best for Courcy. But the townfolks, and the other adventurers, they would hardly forget, and some of them might still hold a grief against her. The Vestal placed a shaky hand on the Hellion's shoulder.

"You sure you're alright?"

The redhead turned around to face her, trying to keep a neutral face, even through the fact that other people didn't want to have a thing to do with her filled her with sorrow.

"I'm alright, Maria. Stop worrying about me."

Maria nodded slowly, hoping all would go well for the Hellion...

"Where are they? They're supposed to be here since half an hour!"

Tilly kicked a stone in frustration. Courcy was the one who got that idea of going in the Ruins, and she accepted; a bit of dungeon crawling wasn't so bad after all. But if she knew Silas was going to come along, maybe, then maybe, she would not had accepted. All interactions with him were awkward, negative, ridiculous, and stressing. She turned to him, frowning. He was sitting on a rock, cleaning his flintlock pistol silently. Another thing that changed about him; he was way more silent now.  
The Grave Robber had no idea if that was better than before; having him staying silent almost all the time was creeping her out.

She let out a sigh of annoyance as Courcy finally showed up, accompanied by a Vestal she never heard of. This wasn't the best party composure to go in the Ruins, but the Hellion had completely no chances of finding a Crusader willing to work in the same party as her, so here they were.

"Finally. You ready yet? And who's that?"

The redhead shrugged and took the lead, entering the Ruins.

"Someone who's not blinded by faith."

The Grave Robber sighed at the vague comment an rolled her eyes, hoping the young-looking blonde girl was at least competent enough to spare her the burden of babysitting another fresh meat.

Silas didn't say anything, entering the dungeon right after Courcy. He simply nodded at the Vestal, acknowledging her presence.

Two bandits, a fool and an outlaw.

Flesh to be fed to the unspeakable horrors lurking in the Ruins of the Darkest Estate.


	3. Terror, War and Love

And to think they hoped to slay abominations and bring back gold and trinkets from their expedition.

It was only as the roof fell down that they finally realised they were **_nothing_** , except rats in a maze.

They battled through six rooms, defeating skeletal adversaries, and sometimes, cultists worshipping some ancient gods. They were about to settle down for camp, exhausted, when the entire place was shaken. The roof started to crack, giving them barely enough time to run toward the doors before the whole place was filled with rubble.

Courcy had ran toward the door continuing forward into the dungeon, followed immediatly after by Maria.

Meanwhile, Silas and Tilly were on the other end, having a chance of abandonning their companions to a certain death and saving their lives.

Courcy and Maria didn't have time to regain their composure; a Bone Soldier, a Cultist Brawler, a Bone Courtier and a Bone Arbalest showed up, surprising the two women who had now way to escape now. Enraged by their hopeless situation, Courcy picked her glaive from the cold, stone floor, and, with a powerful roar, rushed toward the oldier, before hacking it apart violently with a swing of her long, powerful weapon.  
The response from the ennemy was immediate; the Brawler advanced, and sinked his long, sharp blades into the Hellion's chest, almost immediatly after the Arbalest fired at her and hit her right in the leg.

Flinching due to the might of the counter-attack of the undead and its ally, Courcy was not able to dodge the black, liquid goo thrown from the Courtier's goblet.  
The liquid was greatly unsettling; it dripped down her shoulder, disgusting, making her sick to her stomach.  
Maria responded by invoking a Dazzling Light, stunning the Arbalest as Courcy hacked apart the Courtier.

It was the last time the Hellion acted; the violence of the Brawler and the Arbalest focusing their firepower on her once again pushed her back. She tried to fight against the creeping darkness filling her vision, but she finally dropped on the floor, unconscious for an unknown period, blood leaving her wounds and painting the floor with its color. Immediatly after she saw the redhead falling, Maria felt herself being filled with rage. Taking a good hold of her mace, she swung it while shouting a prayer to the Flame.

A disgusting noise resonated in the large room as the Cultist Brawler's face was crushed into his mask.  
Panting heavily, Maria removed her mace from the fanatic's mask, causing a sickening noise of flesh to be heard.  
The adrenaline barely prevented her from realizing how violent and unlike her the action was, and making her overthink it.

A lucky Quarrel hit her in the shoulder, piercing through her armor and her skin. She yelped in pain, backing off and holding the projectile with one of her gloved hand.  
She clenched her teeth in pain, the flesh struck by the quarrel feeling like it was boiling.  
She had no chance to defeat the Arbalest. She was already gravely wounded, Courcy was out of combat, and the unholy creature was hiding behind the remains of the three other ennemies.

But she would be damned if she let the unholy abomination reach the Hellion; he would have to step on her dead body first.  
The Vestal accepted her grim fate and raised her mace toward the ceiling, holding her holy book in the other hand, chanting a melancholic prayer to the Light.  
Lightning struck the skeletal ennemy, damaging him drastically and revigorating her slightly.

But not enough to kill it.

The remaining hope the blonde held was snuffed out as looked at her foe. She couldn't cast Judgement so quickly after having used it.  
Defeated, she dropped to her knees, staring as the crippled, former human reloaded his weapon slowly.  
She closed her eyes, a prayer on her lips, accepting death, when a barbaric roar erupted from behind her.

Moments later, Courcy rushed by her side, striking horizontally with her glaive, her breakthrough reaching the Arbalest and piercing through the creature's armor and bones, sending the horror back to where it belonged.

The Hellion, who had used a rush of adrenaline for her violent and brutal action, helped the Vestal to her feet, before taking her hand and advancing toward the rubble blocking the way.  
Maria followed the redhead mindlessly. Courcy had to tug on her arm several time to make her walk; the blonde's gaze was lost in the distance, staring at nothing in particular.  
The warrioress didn't blame her. Dealing with the stress was hard for everyone here, and Maria was pretty new to the whole dungeon exploring activity.

For the first time in a long time, Courcy softened up; as they reached the remains of the roof blocking the path, she gently helped Maria to a sitting stance, before sitting next to the Vestal against the rubble.  
The blonde's state was worrying; she wasn't as critically wounded as Courcy, but she was mentally broken.  
The adrenaline still rushing in her veins, the Hellion reached for the bandages in her companion's backpack and used several rolls on her wounds.  
Once the bleeding was staunched, she busied herself on doing the same to Maria. She knew she wasn't doing it right; healing others wasn't something she knew how to do, but she did her best to stabilize the blonde's condition.

It was only as she pressed her back against the blockage that she realized how the Vestal and herself were ultimately doomed; the rubble had blocked the only way out. They would die at the hands of a fanatical cultists, skeletal undead creatures, or of a terrifying ghoul; and even if they managed to survive against all these odds, hunger, thirst and stress would finally claim their due.

It was with such thoughts in mind that she buried her face in her hands, crying in despair. She survived many expeditions, but the mental scar of loosing Baignard the Bounty Hunter, the first and only person she ever loved, was still open, leaving a dangerous opening for despair and madness to grasp her...  
Tears flowed from her green eyes down her cheeks, before reaching her hands. Her body was shaking, her confidence was broken. Slowly, the light emitted from their torch started to fade, growing closer and closer to being extinguished.  
The Hellion however took her hands off her face as she heard the soothing sound of a prayer.  
The soft, delicate and crystalline voice felt out of place in such a despaired situation, as all hope was vanishing. Her vision blurred by her tears, it took her some time to realize that Maria was the one chanting, her voice soothing the Hellion slightly. The Vestal approached more and more, crawling up to the Hellion slowly, dragging herself closer and closer. Courcy wasn't able to react. She simply couldn't; she felt mesmerized; because what was crawling up to her like a divine angel, was hope. Maria's armor was even glistening lightly; a weak, but shining light was emitting from her armor. All that was missing was the wings to convince the redhead that she was in heaven.

The gap was finally closed. Maria's face stopped inches from Courcy as the blonde stared into Courcy's eyes for a minute or so, that felt like eternity. Slowly, a reassuring smile crept on her face, and her eyes seemed warm, welcoming. Courcy had stopped sobbing, motionless and speechless as she couldn't help but look at the Vestal.

She was taken into the moment so much, she only yelped as Maria suddenly closed the gap and smashed her lips upon the Hellion's.  
It didn't feel wrong like she would had expected. In fact, she decided that if they both had to die anyway, she could had least enjoy the company of the other woman. The Hellion kissed back, aggresively mapping out the Vestal's mouth with her skilled toungue. Maria blushed deeply; in her mind, the complete opposite was happening. This kiss was the result of a long time of growing love, consuming her like a flame. Contrarily to Courcy, she didn't do it just because she wanted to enjoy herself. It was an act of genuine love. But for now, she didn't know anything of the redhead's intention, and simply kissed her the best she could, hoping that it wasn't just a one-time stand, if they actually survived; wich wasn't going to happen, judging by the odds...

* * *

When the stones on top of them crumbled, Silas knew something bad was going to happen. In fact, as rubble fell down, he jumped back, grabbing Tilly by the jacket and forcefully pulling her back mere seconds before the path was blocked.

As the dust finally settled, the blonde woman turned to Silas, apparently frustrated.

"Now what?"

The Highwayman wanted to punch her right in the face. The fact was, he made the vow to speak only when necessary after Tilly rejected him, that one time in the Weald. He was still bitter over it, but what he hated most was how he still saw Eva in her.  
Eva was a hooker he fell in love with, a long time ago. They ran from town one night, only for Eva to be killed the day after by a group of bandits.  
Silas slaughtered them all, before promising to himself that he would fight in the most terrible condition and endure pain to atone for his sins.  
Tilly and Eva were a lot similar. Not on the physical aspect; where Tilly had longue, blond hairs, eyes as green as emeralds, and wore a hat, Eva had short, red hairs, and constantly wore a tricorn. But they had the same nature; they were both independent, lone wolves, and extremely reserved about themselves.

The fact they were brigants didn't mean they had to leave companions behind. Tilly had a shovel, and they could always use their hands, at the cost of their own health, and their sanity. But he would be damned if he let the two other womans behind, to die at the hands of the abominations lurking in the ruins, or because of thirst, hunger, and insanity.

"I am going to dig up a path to Courcy and her friend, even if it costs me my fingers and my mind. Are you with me, Grave Robber?"

It was one of the longest sentence he spoke to her in a long time, causing her to frown. Sometimes, she just wanted to slap him, and scream that they weren't heroes. Sometimes, she was completely lost. An affair with Silas was out of the question. Love was a hollow and ridiculous notion in such a darkest place, but she couldn't deny they always ended up together, because they were alike; two renegades, two outlaws who ran from everything.  
She shook her head. Using her shovel was a waste of gold, but at the same time, Silas was right. Saving the two others wasn't acting hero. It was just not being a bitch. Sighing, she took the shovel from her back and started to dig up the pile of rubble.  
She pretended not to notice the smile that crept on the Highwayman's face, who took his shovel and helped her in the process of clearing a path.

She couldn't possibly admit it to herself, but seeing the face of the ever-tormented man crack in a smile brought a comforting warmth to her chest.


End file.
